Crossing Boundaries
by aceology
Summary: She should have been killed that night. Instead, Laurel West finds herself in a parallel world with her life in the hands of two complete strangers. Are the famous Elric brothers really capable of returning her home? Laurel thinks it remains to be seen…
1. Chapter 1

_**(A rather long-winded) Author's Note:**_ _Welcome, fellow Fanfiction readers. It seems you've stumbled across this humble piece, which happens to be my first serious Fanfiction. The idea for this story has been in my head for a while now, and I'm excited to finally share it._

_Let me start out by saying that this story doesn't follow everything that had happened in the Conqueror of Shamballa. In order to match the events leading up to my story, Edward returned to his world and did not go back to ours. It is assumed the gate had sealed itself shortly after it was forced open, as the worlds were never supposed to have collided._

_It's a bit of a twist, but it was the only way to get this to make sense. If you have a problem with that, I suppose you can take it up with me, but there's always the option of not reading this story if it really bothers you. xD_

_There is also the addition of OCs in this fic (again, if this bothers you, no one is forcing you to read). I know a lot of you are skeptical about OCs in fanfiction- heck, I'm one of those people myself- but I promisepromisepromise not to make them Mary Sue-ish._

_Also, I'm going to guestimate and say that the date is 1935 in Ed and Al's world. It seems there's a lot of discrepancy over when FMA takes place (it's different in FMA1 and Brotherhood), so I'm just placing the time of this fic at around World War II._

_This story initially jumps back and forth between present day (in our world) and 1935 in Ed and Al's world. The way the different worlds relate to each other in my fic is different from FMA in that time doesn't really play a role between worlds. Case and point- in this fic, my two OCs, Laurel West and Lauryl Goodwin (notice the different spellings of their names, to avoid confusion between the two? Clever, right? No? xD), are doppelgängers of each other (one from Ed and Al's world, one from our world), like Alphonse Elric and Alfons Heiderich, but they're from different time periods. Still, whatever happens in Ed and Al's world in 1935 and our world in the present day is actually happening at the same time. Confused? Hopefully, all will be made clear once the story picks up steam._

_Again, I'm taking liberties here, but it's the only way to make this story make sense. __But anyway, without further ado, here's my fic!_

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><p><em>June 17, 1935<em>

_**Excerpt from the Amestris Times**_

_Lauryl Goodwin, the esteemed traveling alchemist known for her humanitarian efforts to help those in need across the country, was reported missing today. According to an eyewitness report, she was last seen departing from the small village of Eulygul two weeks ago. Before her departure, Lauryl had stated to villagers that she would be traveling to the next town over, Itandea. However, it has since been confirmed that Lauryl had never set foot in the town. Search parties have already been sent out in an attempt to locate the missing alchemist. The military urges anyone who has information regarding the whereabouts of Lauryl Goodwin to come forward and report to an official immediately. A small reward is offered in exchange for pertinent information regarding Laurel Goodwin that will lead to her safe return._

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><p><strong><em>Present Day<em>**

The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins as I storm away, and I feel lightheaded. My mind is unable to focus on any one thing, which is probably best for the moment. Jumbled images, sensations, and sounds from what had happened moments ago are brought to the forefront of my mind- a hot cup of coffee, my hand making contact with skin and the stinging in my palm as a result, frenzied shouts, my own angry voice, feet hitting pavement… I shove them away.

"Laurel, wait up!"

Stopping in my tracks, I turn towards the source of the voice and grin as brightly as I can. The effort pains me. "About time you caught up, Rach."

I watch as the person in question slows down in front of me, gasping and heaving from the exertion of running. Her dark hair hangs limply around her reddened face, almost as if it's exhausted as well. Good. For once, it looks less than perfect. "Care to explain what the hell happened back there?" she asks between pants.

"Nah, not really. It's no big deal, anyway." I flick a lock of my hair over my shoulder nonchalantly, as if it were a problem I could toss away as simply as that.

"The hell it isn't! Can you stop brushing everything off all the time? If there's a problem, and there obviously is, you can talk to me about it. Dammit, Laurel, I'm your friend!"

I am taken aback by that, and the too-bright grin slips from my face. Rachel is usually a levelheaded person, and I can't remember the last time I've seen her this pissed off. I recognize the need to tread lightly, because in all the years I've known her, I have limited experience with an angry Rachel.

"Maybe I just don't feel like talking about it." It's not a lie; I truly don't feel like discussing the events that had unfolded moments ago. To talk about it would be to acknowledge that they had happened in the first place, and I don't know if I can handle that.

Luckily, that's all the explanation I am required to give. Rachel knows me well enough to realize that I'm shielding myself from the hurt, just as I shield myself from whatever negative emotion I feel when faced with a less than stellar situation.

Of course, I should have known that she wasn't going to be happy about that.

"You do realize that just ignoring the problem isn't going to make it go away, right?"

She's no longer angry; rather, she sounds almost tired. She sounds like a parent giving their kid the metaphorical slap on the wrist, and I find that I prefer an angry Rachel.

Deciding to ignore her last comment, I begin to steadily walk away. The adrenaline rush is beginning to leave me, and my limbs grow heavier. I no longer have the strength to act like everything is fine, and now that my mind has cleared, the full weight of what had happened crashes down on me.

My eyes begin to itch, and I know it has nothing to do with the increased amount of pollen in the autumn air.

I'm angry with myself for my weakness, and I mentally urge myself not to cry. That bastard doesn't deserve to have tears shed over him.

Despite this, the itch to cry gets stronger, and I feel moisture begin to form at the corners of my eyes. Dammit.

I blink them away and begin to walk faster. The sooner I get away, the better. The shopping center is bustling at the moment, and people are scurrying past me to window shop and simply pass the time.

I refuse to cry in front of strangers.

"Laurel!" Rachel's voice sounds farther away now, and I ignore her. I urge my legs to carry me faster, and it's the only thing going through my head right now.

_Run, run, run. Get away, get away._

Suddenly, a hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I almost lose my balance at the abrupt force holding me back. "Laurel."

Rachel's voice is right behind me now, and I let out a watery sigh. Shame washes over me now. Here we are, standing in the middle of a busy shopping center, passerby walking around us and a few of them even glancing our way, and I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown.

I hate myself for feeling this way.

A few stray tears manage to break free, sliding down my face and leaving a wet trail along my cheeks.

This time, I don't have the strength to wipe them away. Now that I have started, it's hard to stop, and it's like a dam has broken. Soon, I find myself sobbing uncontrollably, and it feels _good_.

To hell with everyone else. These strangers can stare all they want. They didn't matter anymore.

Rachel wraps her arms around me, patting my back in what would have been a soothing gesture, had I not been so far gone at that point.

"Shh, it's alright, Laurel. Let it all out. You don't need to hide behind a front. It's okay to cry."

Rachel's words are a bit late, but all the same, I don't need to be told twice. They are the last thing I hear before I drown myself in the sounds of my own broken sobs.

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><p><em><strong>Amestris, 1935<strong>_

"Thank you so much for all that you have done for us, Miss Lauryl!" The grateful woman clutched her son's hand and smiled widely at the girl before her.

"I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to little Thomas here. Thomas, say thank you!" She nudged the little boy forward, and he blushed scarlet, gazing up at his savior shyly. "Thank you, Miss Lauryl."

The girl being addressed rewarded him with a warm smile and an affectionate pat on the head. Bending down so that she was eye level with the boy, she started, "It was no problem. Be careful not to wander off too far next time, okay?"

"Yes'm." The boy nodded and proceeded to scurry away, too bashful in the pretty young alchemist's presence to know what to do about it.

The girl in question watched him go with the smile still on her face.

Thomas's mother watched the girl with an expression of awe. _So much drive and confidence in one so young_, she mused. _No wonder all of Amestris has come to rely on her in times of hardship._ There was no doubt about it- Lauryl Goodwin was a godsend.

The road to recovery for Amestris following the overthrowing of the Fuhrer was a tough one. The military was struggling to deal with the sudden shift in power, and the whole country watched with bated breath to see what would happen next.

The Battle of Central only served to weaken the military further, and the people were shaken by the results of the fight. Central was in chaos, and people started to believe that the military would no longer be strong enough to protect the country.

Sure, they had won the battle and brought down the strange force invading them, but it did little to quell their fears.

There were a few uprisings at first, as there seemed to be a difference in opinion over the best course of action for Amestris. Some people had hated the military and the corruption that seemed to surround it like a dark shroud, and believed that it was best if it was overthrown and done away with. Others believed that the military would work itself out, and that it would only be a matter of time before a new leader was found. It was around this time that Lauryl Goodwin seemed to step out of the shadows of obscurity and become a household name in Amestris.

She was no dog of the military; she seemed to travel the country alone, her mission unknown, stopping to help towns and villages along the way.

No one knew where she intended to go, nor did they have an inkling of where she had come from. All the same, everyone was just grateful for the help she provided during her travels. She was like the wind, really, coming and going as she pleased.

She had shown the people of poor villages new ways to grow crops, helped rebuild dilapidated buildings and houses with a clap of her hands, and built hospitals and schools in the places that lacked them.

And she had never asked for anything in return. She simply accepted the thanks of grateful townspeople and villagers and continued on her way.

It seemed that the less people knew about her, the more the mysterious girl who went by the name of Lauryl Goodwin enraptured them.

It was no mystery why the whole country had their eyes on her when one looked at it that way.

The woman's thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt when the object of her musings cleared her throat. "Well, I suppose I better head off now."

"Wait!" the woman found herself saying. "Don't you want to tell the rest of the villagers? I'm sure the village would want to see you off safely. We could even have a feast in your honor! I'm sure you're starving after all that you have done for us today."

It was true. Working with the villagers to rebuild broken-down structures was backbreaking work, even with alchemy, and Lauryl felt her stomach growl in affirmation. Still, she wasn't about to allow herself to get sidetracked.

"I think it's best if I leave now. I wouldn't want to impede on your hospitality any longer."

"But it's no trouble at all! You have repaid us tenfold with all the help you gave. On the contrary, it is us who are in your debt."

The girl only smiled. "I accept your thanks, but my mind hasn't changed. I must leave now. Take care."

Before the woman had time to protest, Lauryl was walking away towards the dirt road, her back becoming gradually smaller as she put more distance between herself and the village.

"Where are you heading off to in such a hurry?" the woman shouted after her. "Will you come back and visit us sometime? I'm sure you'd love to see the fruits of your labor! We would truly love to see you again!"

If the girl heard her, she didn't show it. Lauryl continued to walk away with purpose in her steps, and soon, she was no more than a speck in the distance.

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><p><strong><em>End Note: <em>**_... and scene. ;P Well, there's the first chapter. I hope everyone enjoyed it! Like I said in the author's note at the beginning of this chapter, I'm really excited about this fic, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the chapters will continue to be easy to write (I'm currently writing out chapter three at the moment, so I'm a bit ahead). I hope it was made apparent in this chapter, but just in case people didn't catch it- the part of the story written in first person is narrated by Laurel West (who lives in our world, in the present day). The part written in third person follows Lauryl Goodwin's adventures in Amestris. I'll just point out now that the only time this story is written in first person is when Laurel is doing the talking. Hopefully no one is put off by the switch between first and third person._

_Anyway, I'm really eager to hear what people think. Constructive criticism is loved! I'm always looking to improve my writing. However, flames will be ignored, and I'll just pretend I never saw them. ;o_

_Until next time, then!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: **__Welcome back, everyone. I decided to go ahead and post the second chapter of this story, since it was already written and everything. The first chapter only helped set the scene a bit; this one is where the plot starts to thicken. Length-wise, this chapter is roughly twice as long as the last one, and you can expect the upcoming chapters to be around this length (some longer, some less). Also, I forgot to mention in my last author's note that this story doesn't follow the manga or Brotherhood at all (at least, it doesn't so far. It's hard to say whether I'll decide to incorporate some ideas from the manga/Brotherhood). I'm going to use the idea in the first FMA that whenever someone attempts a human transmutation, a homunculus is created._

_**Disclaimer: **_It just occurred to me that I forgot to include the disclaimer in the first chapter. Whoops… so here it is. I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. If I did, you can be sure that I won't be sitting here writing FANfiction about it.

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><p><em><strong>Present Day<strong>_

I'm sitting on the couch when my dad decides to show his sorry face. I had stopped crying many hours ago.

Glancing at the clock hanging from the wall above the television, I look at the time. It's almost three in the morning. I had been too restless to even attempt going to sleep, so I settled for sitting on the couch, bundled in a thin blanket, clutching a mug of hot tea and sipping from it occasionally.

Shortly after my breakdown at the shopping center, Rachel had decided to bring me home. I refused at first. I didn't think I could handle looking my dad in the face after what he had done. Rachel reasoned that he wasn't even home, but I wasn't about to take any chances.

But as it turned out, I had nothing to worry about. Coward that he is, my dad opted to stay as far away from home as possible, and he only decided to show up _now_.

I can tell that he is surprised to see me. He stumbles into the living room, looking bleary-eyed and disheveled like he had been woken from a deep sleep. When he catches sight of me on the couch, the shock is written all over his face.

I stare at him coldly, words failing me for the first time in my life. I wrap the blanket tighter around myself, like it will somehow give me strength in the absence of my cutting remarks.

"Laurel…" my dad trails off, at a loss for words himself.

"Don't bother saying anything." I'm tired now. Seeing my dad has drained the restlessness right from my body, and I find that I'm not ready to face him. Gripping my mug and keeping the blanket wrapped around myself, I stand up and make to move past him, up the stairs to the sanctuary of my bedroom.

He stops me, grabbing hold of my shoulder firmly. I attempt to shake him off but fail.

"Listen to me, Laurel." His voice is stronger now, and I can tell that he won't leave me alone until he gets whatever he wants to tell me off his chest.

"Let go."

"Laurel, you have to listen to me-"

"LET GO!"

I shove him aside with my body, and he stumbles backward, unprepared for my sudden outburst. There is sadness in his eyes, and it catches me off guard. I'm expecting him to be angry at me, or guilty over what he had done to Mom.

But sadness? I'm not prepared for that.

"Laurel. You have to understand." He takes on the tone of a soothing parent, someone trying to calm down a petulant child. I flare up in indignation.

"There's nothing to understand! You were unfaithful to Mom!" As much as I'm pissed that my dad is talking to me like a kid, I have to admit that I'm acting like one at the moment.

Still, I can't bring myself to care.

"Mom loved you, and you loved her! And today…" _Today, I saw you with another woman_, my mind finishes for me.

My dad heaves a sigh, and he suddenly looks much older. "Laurel, your mom is gone. She's been gone, and it's time we moved on."

The impact his words have on me is the equivalent of being punched in the gut. What he's saying makes perfect sense, and as much as I want to deny it, I can't. It's true, after all. Mom had been dead for eight years now, taken cruelly away by cancer.

All the same, it had never occurred to me that there would be a replacement for Mom. _No one _could ever take her place. Why can't my dad see that? Just the thought of seeing him laughing and holding hands with another woman tears at my insides. Seeing it with my own eyes had hurt _so much_, because it only served to reinforce the fact that mom was gone, and she was never coming back.

My dad continues on, unaware of my turbulent thoughts. "She loved us very much, and I'm sure she would have wanted us to be happy and continue living our lives. We can't mourn forever, Laurel."

My mind shies away from his rationality. I want to fight, to argue, to raise my voice and throw things. It seems a hell of a lot more appealing than having a heart-to-heart with my dad, but he is being persistent.

"When your mother died, it hurt so much. I wasn't sure how I was going to survive without her, but I had to take care of you. I couldn't do that if I hid away from the world. I did what I had to do, and continued living, Laurel. Your mother wanted that for us."

I sniff. "And how does fooling around with another woman have anything to do with taking care of me?" I know I'm being unreasonable and selfish now, but I still can't bring myself to accept the fact that my dad had moved on so easily.

He sighed again. "I admit that my reasons for being with Sheryl are selfish ones."

Oh, so her name was Sheryl. I suddenly hate that name, and the sound of it falling so casually from my dad's lips brings bile to my throat.

"How long has this been going on?" Based on how comfortable the two of them were in each other's presence, I have a feeling in my gut that this hadn't been their first date. A part of me is scared of hearing the answer, but the other half is aching to know. I'm too curious for my own good.

My dad hesitates before he answers. "A couple of months."

I let out a choked gasp. It feels like the air had been forced out of my lungs from a blow to the stomach. He had been hiding this from me for all this time? Pain and betrayal on my mother's behalf wells up in me, and I almost wish he didn't answer my question. _Almost_.

"When were you planning on telling me? Or were you planning on telling me at all?" My voice is bitter, and my hands begin to shake. The tea sloshes dangerously in my mug, but I pay it no mind.

"I've been meaning to tell you, but the timing just never seemed right-"

"Bullshit!" The word leaves my mouth before I have time to think twice, and I cringe from cussing in my dad's presence.

"Language, Laurel-"

"I don't care! How could you do this to me? I'm not a child anymore! I'm perfectly capable of putting on my big girl pants and dealing with it!" I glare at my dad, and he has the good sense to remain silent.

"It wouldn't hurt so much if you had just _told_ me, instead of sneaking around behind my back because you didn't think I was old enough to handle your stupid fling."

To his credit, my dad has the decency to look guilty. "I know, and I'm sorry."

The anger leaves abruptly, and it takes everything I have not to sink onto the floor. My legs no longer have the strength to keep me standing. "I know Mom is never coming back. But it still hurts." My voice is shaky and weak now.

I hang my head and stare absently at the floor as raw anguish takes over where the anger once was, and the carpet below my feet grows fuzzy. I realize that I'm looking at the world through a film of tears. A few drops patter soundlessly onto the carpet before being absorbed by the material.

Warm arms wrap themselves around me, and my head is brought to rest against a firm chest. I had been too caught up in my grief to notice my dad pick himself up from against the wall, and I hadn't heard him walk to stand beside me. I let him soothe me and hold me, because deep down, I know he's hurting too.

I can't blame him for wanting to move on. I had been a child to expect anything different of him, and I'm ashamed at my own selfishness. Deep down, I had known all along that I was being selfish to expect Mom to be the only woman dad ever loved.

As hard as it is to picture him in the arms of someone else, I know that I also want my dad to be happy. Even if it means that Mom isn't the only woman he'll have loved.

All the same, a small, stubborn part of me is aching to flee the scene and clear my head.

I extricate myself from my dad's embrace and give him a watery smile. The gesture seems forced, so I give up immediately and settle for looking blankly at him.

"I'm going to bed now."

He nods, understanding the toll this conversation must have taken on me. "Good night, Laurel. We'll talk more in the morning."

I leave him standing at the bottom of the stairs. I'm practically tripping over my feet in my haste to get away, and I breathe a sigh of relief once I close the door to my room behind me, leaning against it for support.

I know it's unfair to be mad at my dad because I know that Mom would have wanted him to be happy. All the same, I'm still not sure how I feel about his relationship with Sheryl.

I might not be mad anymore, but I don't feel any closer to accepting her.

A part of me is furious at Sheryl for helping my dad move on. I feel like I'm being left in the dust, stuck grieving for Mom forever while my dad smiles and laughs and confides in someone else… someone who isn't her.

I know I'm being ridiculous, but I want to clear my head. Grasping for the doorknob and opening the door cautiously, I check to make sure the coast is clear before venturing outside.

The house is dark, and the only light is coming from my room. Closing the door behind me and stepping into the hallway, I make my way down the stairs. It seems my dad had decided to turn in for the night. I'm grateful for that. If he knew I was planning on heading out, he would have stopped me.

I hastily put on the pair of sneakers I had dumped haphazardly on the floor this afternoon and step out of the house as quietly as I can manage. I am bombarded with a gust of chilly autumn wind, and it occurs to me that the days have gotten colder. Summer was a thing of the past. I shiver in my flimsy pajamas, half-wishing I had brought my blanket with me, or at the very least, a robe.

I don't feel like going back inside, though, so I step bravely away from my front door, letting my feet take me wherever they felt like going. I pass a number of houses, and slowly but surely, the scenery becomes unfamiliar. I am too busy clearing my head to care, and I trudge on despite my instincts telling me to turn around and go home.

The tiredness from my argument is a passing feeling, and in the face of the cold air of the outside world, I am wide awake again. I absently note that the air is growing damp around me, signaling rain.

_Maybe it is best to go home_, I think. My walk did manage to comfort me a little, and I don't want to be caught in the rain. For the first time in the course of my long walk, I take in my surroundings. I fight down the fear washing over me as I realize that I have no idea where I am.

The houses in my neighborhood are nowhere in sight, and I look to the sky in a panic. It's still dark out, but there's no denying the tentative rays of sunlight appearing in the east before being obscured by storm clouds.

Had I been gone from home for that long? It feels like only moments ago that I was arguing with my dad.

The scent of rain in the air grows stronger, and a few drops leave dark circles on the sidewalk. It doesn't take long for the light drizzle to turn into an all-out shower, and I whimper pathetically. Moments later, I'm soaked to the bone, teeth chattering and arms wrapped protectively around myself in a fruitless effort to preserve body heat. I break into a run, rushing past street lamps and crossing streets in my desperation to get home.

Maybe if I keep running, I'll eventually run into something familiar. My ill-thought out course of action is better than nothing, and I don't even pay attention to the cars whizzing by, their headlights illuminating the space in front of them.

I'm cold, scared, and I just want to be safe under the covers in my bed. I almost let out a wail of despair at the thought of my warm, dry sheets.

The thought renews my desperation, and I push my despair to the back of my mind, the image of my bed and the comfort it offered me propelling my feet to move faster.

I'm so far removed from the world around me that I don't notice the truck until it's too late. I only have time to process the fact that there's a moving vehicle driving in my direction, and I'm in the way.

The driver honks the horn a few times, and I hear the screech of tires as the brakes are slammed on. My feet are glued to the concrete, and despite my mind urging me to run, I find that I'm unable to.

I suddenly truly understand the statement, 'deer caught in the headlights'.

The headlights of the truck are too close, and I am blinded by their intensity. The car is still skidding to a halt, but the streets are so slick with rain, the impending collision is inevitable.

My mind is screaming at me to run for it now. Every fiber of my being is urging my limbs to move, but I can't control my body. I am unable to do anything except stare at the vehicle coming ever closer to me, my mouth dry and my limbs feeling like lead.

What seems to be an eternity passes, and sudden, all-consuming, white-hot pain flashes through me, and my mind shuts down.

The last coherent thought I have is that I never did manage to find my way home.

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><p><em><strong>1935, Amestris<strong>_

Lauryl Goodwin stared absently at the giant transmutation circle and the pile of ingredients sitting at the very center of it. She had painstakingly gathered them, looking up the exact composition of the human body to the very last subatomic level before she was satisfied that she had everything she needed.

Clutching a lock of hair and holding it to her chest, she loosened her fingers on the strands before walking to the center of the circle and tossing them to the top of the pile.

"My love…" Tears began to form in her eyes, and she wiped them away before settling herself at the outside of the circle.

"We'll be together again." All this time she had been travelling the country, searching for all the information she could gather on human transmutation. Many of the books on alchemy that she managed to get her hands on didn't even mention human transmutation, and the ones that did only stated that it was the one big taboo among alchemists. It also mentioned something about homunculi, but she brushed that aside. Homunculi simply didn't exist. They were mythical creatures invented by the human imagination in order to frighten young children from sticking their noses into things they shouldn't.

The bitter disappointment she had felt as a result of the limited help the texts provided had torn at her soul. Still, a part of her had known all along that it wouldn't be that easy.

She had known that; she had known that even attempting a human transmutation was unthinkable ever since she was old enough to properly draw a transmutation circle, but that wouldn't stop her from trying.

She would be reunited with her beloved if it was the last thing she did, the rules and homunculi be damned.

With that in mind, she placed her hands on the circle, eyes hardened and resolve strengthened._ We will be together again…_

Blue light began to shine from the lines drawn by chalk, and Lauryl couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips at the sight. It was working.

Power began to crackle in the air, and Lauryl felt goosebumps begin to form on her arms. She had a strange feeling in her gut that something wasn't quite right.

The smile had since vanished from her face, and she gasped at the tingling sensation in her palms. At first she hadn't thought too much of it; after all, her palms always tingled whenever she did a transmutation.

But this time, it was different. The tingling was steadily beginning to turn into pain, but she couldn't bring herself to break contact with the circle. She had to finish this. She had to bring back her beloved. She was so close…

The energy around her seemed to shift, and Lauryl's sense of wrongness only grew stronger. Straining her eyes in an attempt to get a glimpse at the center of the transmutation circle, Lauryl gasped and fell backwards in her haste to get away from the strange sight.

In front of her stood a large black gate, the giant stone doors thrown wide open, innumerable tiny black hands reaching for her from beyond the gate.

There were a million voices in her head at once, and Lauryl covered her ears in an attempt to block them out. The black mass of disconnected arms reached for her and pulled her towards the gate, and she let out a piercing scream, tearing her arms away from her ears and reaching desperately for anything to keep her anchored in place.

However, the effort was futile, and the mass of arms was too much for her. Before her mind could catch up to what was going on, she found herself passing through the gate.

There were more arms latching onto her; Lauryl could feel them weigh her down, and she felt sick to her stomach. Twisting her head around to look for the source of the feeling, Lauryl screamed and stared, horrorstruck, at the black beings that grabbed onto her from behind, their purple eyes twinkling with devious mirth. Unlike the black mass of arms from before, these new additions had bodies and faces. She was being pulled further into the gate, and in a last ditch effort, Lauryl reached for the closing double doors.

Despair gripped her when her fingers grasped nothing but emptiness. The doors were just out of her reach, and she couldn't find it in her to cry out as they closed in front of her, effectively separating her from any hope of escape.

Lauryl's eyes swiveled around to get a better grasp of her strange new surroundings, but she was met with utter blankness aside from the black mass holding onto her. She shivered in fear.

Suddenly, a flurry of images appeared and disappeared before her eyes, the rapid speed at which they were shown to her rendering her mind incapable of fully comprehending what it was she was seeing.

The voices around her were back with a vengeance, too many of them for her to understand any individual one. Her head felt like it was about to burst from the information overload.

"Stop! Please, make it stop!" Lauryl's voice was ragged and crazed, even to her own ears, but she was long past caring.

She began falling into the emptiness, and the procession of images began to slow down. The voices began fading as one, and Lauryl nearly sighed in relief. The strange assault was coming to an end, it seemed.

Suddenly, a figure appeared just ahead of her, and Lauryl let out a gasp. This figure had an air of familiarity to it, and she had a feeling she knew exactly who it was…

"Stephen? Stephen, is that you?" Her voice came out in a hushed whisper, her heart soaring into her throat. She tried her best to clamp down the feeling of euphoria threatening to overcome her at seeing her lost love, but it was no use. The closer she got to the figure, the more she couldn't deny the fact that it was Stephen before her very eyes.

He smiled at her, his green eyes twinkling with the familiar amusement she loved so much, and she found herself smiling back. The fragile hope that she would be successful in bringing him back to the land of the living turned into unbidden joy.

He was right here! He was alive! Her beloved Stephen…

Reaching out towards the apparition, her joy gave way to desperation as she found that she was drifting past him, and he was just out of her reach.

"NO! I won't let this happen!" Maneuvering her body in the empty space so that she was facing him again, she made another desperate grab for his hand, and again came up short.

"STEPHEN!" Desperate tears streamed from her eyes. Lauryl wasn't about to be separated from him again- not if she could help it! She was so engulfed in her own despair and desperation to close the distance between herself and her love that she hardly noticed her body beginning to disintegrate.

Reaching her arm out for him again, Lauryl let out a mangled scream as she stared at her dissolving limb. Fear began to grip her. She was… disappearing?

The apparition of Stephen floated away from her, as if carried by an unseen current. Lauryl cried out in protest, willing her limbs to obey her and follow after him. Why weren't her legs moving?

Lauryl looked down at where her legs should have been and nearly fainted on the spot. Everything below her torso was gone.

"Stephen! Stephen, help me! I'm disappearing!" Lauryl's voice was beginning to grow faint, and no matter how much she shouted and screamed and pleaded, her appeals for help seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"STEPHEN! STEPHEN, PLEASE!" The words only just managed to tear past her lips before Lauryl met her fate and disappeared into oblivion.

* * *

><p><em><strong>End Note: <strong>__Yay, everything is in place for the story to proceed! ;D I'm still working on the third chapter, but you can expect it to be posted sometime next week. That being said, I can't promise I'll always update in a timely manner. Between college (midterms are drawing close) and looking for a part time job, my time is going to be limited._

_I'm not sure how many people are actually interested in this story (the response to my last chapter wasn't too encouraging), but I just thought I'd give everyone a heads up that there are going to be times when I probably won't be able to update for months on end._

_Speaking of the response to my last chapter, I'm going to say this right now- I am NOT one of those authors who beg for reviews and hold a story hostage until I get X number of reviews. Feedback is loved and encouraged, but I'd rather get one long review giving me constructive criticism than a hundred reviews saying, 'Yay, more please!' Review count doesn't matter. I'll be updating this story even if it feels like no one is reading- I have always loved to write, and I will continue to. I refuse to be discouraged by a lack of response (in fact, I kind of expected it)._

_But still, I would love it if you guys would tell me so if you enjoyed the story, or found it lacking in certain areas. I want to hear what worked and what didn't work- it's a large part of the reason I decided to share this story with you guys. I want to improve myself as a writer. So please, if you have an opinion on the story so far, I would love it if you shared it with me. :)_

_Until next time!_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Note:_**_ As you may have noticed, this fic has been renamed! It was originally titled 'The World Beyond the Gate', but I've never been too fond of the title (that, and it's a mouthful). Now, it's simply called 'Crossing Boundaries'. _

_In other news, here's chapter three! Enjoy. :)_

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><p><em>Present Day<em>

"I just ran over someone. I just ran over someone. I just ran over someone. MY GOD, I just ran over someone!" In a flurry of limbs, the man driving the truck all but stumbled out of his car, practically ripping the driver's side door off its hinges in his haste to assess the damage.

The unfortunate man still wasn't able to wrap his mind around what had happened. He was a responsible driver and had never gotten himself into an accident in his life. He could hardly believe that in the course of a few seconds, everything changed.

He could hardly contain the horror and anguish contorting his face at the sight that awaited him.

There was blood. There was _so much blood_. Staining the ground in front of his car with crimson, he stared in horrid fascination at the way it mixed with the rain and began to spread, the bright red fluid providing a stark contrast to the grey blackness surrounding him.

It didn't help that the headlights of his car only served to make the blood all the more vivid.

Then his eyes fell on the broken figure of a girl.

Letting out a strangled noise from the back of his throat, the man hurried over to her side. "Please, PLEASE let her be alright!" he all but screamed to no one in particular.

"Miss? Hello, miss? Are you alright? Please answer!"

The figure remained motionless and silent. Ice cold fingers gripped his heart as dread began to envelope him. Was she…?

He stopped his thoughts in their tracks, unwilling to assume the worst.

Kneeling over her and gently turning her over on her side so that he could better assess the damage done to her, he let out a cry at the amount of blood flowing freely from her forehead, staining her pale face with crimson. That couldn't be good.

Panic began to tear at him, and the man stumbled to his car to retrieve his cell phone. His hands were shaking so badly that it took several tries to dial 911. He all but collapsed against the side of his truck, his forehead resting against the cold, wet exterior.

Relaying the events of what had just happened to the person who picked up, the man wasn't looking when the glowing started.

If the man had looked, he would have noticed the figure of the girl beginning to glow blue, and the subsequent burst of light that engulfed her. He would have known that something worse than a possibly dead girl was amiss.

But he didn't look. Upon hanging up, the man gave into the sheer exhaustion overwhelming him and slid down the side of the car to curl up and rest his head on his arms. He remained in that position until the ambulances came, but by the time they arrived, it was too late.

Sirens blaring, lights flashing and reflecting off of the rain slicked street, everyone who had just arrived on the scene were shocked to find that the body of the girl all but vanished, leaving only puddles of blood behind.

* * *

><p><em>Location Unknown<em>

I am nameless now, simply an entity lacking a physical body, a small, insignificant piece of the universe that ultimately means nothing.

Cryptic as that may sound, I know this to be the absolute truth as I float through what seems to be an endless abyss. There is a sea of beings just like me, floating up, over, and past me. Even together, the sheer mass of us means nothing. Each individual is simply a part of the whole, our purpose unknown to us. We are an ocean of lost souls, rising and ebbing like the tide of the real thing. It would have been suffocating had I felt the need to breathe, but the need for oxygen is trivial, as I am not human. At least, not anymore.

Strangely enough, I have no qualms against the fact that I will probably end up floating aimlessly through this sea forever. There is no sense of dread, nor is there a sense of peace. We all somehow know that we're lost forever, but we are empty now. There is no need for emotion, just as there is no need for oxygen.

None of us are human anymore.

In the distance, I hear screaming, but I am not bothered to feel curious or alarmed by it. The only fleeting thought I have is that there is no point in fighting against the inevitable. In the end, we all mean nothing.

But the screaming doesn't stop. In fact, it gets louder and louder, and soon, I am overwhelmed by the sound. It begins to dawn on me as the volume of the screaming increases that a name is actually being called out.

_Who could possibly be looking for someone in a place like this?_ I wonder faintly. Did any of us even have names to answer to anymore?

A burst of something I had not felt for a while sparks up in me, and suddenly, I find myself screaming as well. Our voices meld and mesh together, and the beginning of a strange sensation begins to lick at me. After a while, I realize that it is pain. The more I scream, the more the pain consumes me, but I can't bring myself to stop. I feel as if the very essence of who I am, or who I once was, is being torn apart. It hurts, and I want nothing more than for it to stop, but it only gets worse.

Finally, the screaming subsides. I quiet down as well. The pain leaves as quickly as it came, and I am unfeeling once again. However, I am different somehow. I can't figure out what it is, but I still sense the change in me. The sea of souls has disappeared, and I find myself floating through empty space alone.

Or am I falling? I can't be sure.

Time is not a factor here, that much I know. I could be going through this empty space forever.

Then, out of nowhere, I catch sight of a black gate. It sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the endless blankness. Is it a way out?

Fleetingly, I muse that this is an awfully strange place to put a gate. It is the last thought I have before I resign myself to my fate and give myself up to the emptiness.

When I come to, I have no idea where I am. My mind is hazy and my eyes refuse to work properly, so I lay on the ground and feel the grass underneath me, marveling at the dew that collects on my fingers.

Wait. Grass?

Bolting upright with a jolt, I immediately regret it when my head starts to spin and I'm hit with a wave of nausea. Why the hell do I feel so bad?

My limbs feel heavy, almost unfamiliar, and an image flashes through my mind- one of vast emptiness and a feeling of being weightless. Strange.

Ignoring the throbbing in my skull, I take in my surroundings warily, forcing down the panic that claws its way into my chest when I realize that I _have no earthly idea where I am_.

There is green as far as the eye can see, with gently rolling hills and long fronds of grass moving like a sea, blowing in the wind. A few trees dot the landscape, and there doesn't seem to be a building anywhere in sight.

And it's quiet. The only noises I can discern are the rustling of leaves and the swishing of individual pieces of grass brushing against each other.

It's a far cry from home, with its many houses and buildings and cars, and the smell of automobile exhaust forever in the air. As far as I can tell, this place is completely untouched by people.

I rack my brain, trying desperately to figure out how I got here, but I come up empty. The last thing I remember clearly is my frantic run in the rain.

There was desperation… a feeling of being soaked to the bone in the downpour… I had wanted to go home desperately… there was a truck...

… and there was immense pain. Blinding, all consuming, mind numbing pain.

A feeling of despair comes over me. The memory doesn't explain how I got here. Unless…

Unless I was dead.

That had to explain it. How else could I have wound up in the middle of nowhere? Looking down at myself, I realize that I look whole. That couldn't have been possible if I were alive… there should have been broken bones. I cringe, remembering the impact of the truck hitting me.

The pain in my head begins to clear, and I rise, standing on unsteady legs and trying to figure out what to do next.

There had to be other people in heaven, right? I can't be the only one.

I decide to search them out. I reason that if I keep walking straight ahead, I'm bound to come across _someone_.

With that in mind, I begin my search.

* * *

><p>Roy Mustang sat at his desk, staring unseeingly at the stack of paperwork in front of him. He was behind on his work… again… but he couldn't bring himself to pick up his pen.<p>

All of it was pointless, anyway.

Letting out a sigh and resting his chin on his hands, his eyes landed on the paper at the very top of the pile.

It was a missing person report for Lauryl Goodwin.

He and his men had been assigned the arduous task of collecting information regarding her disappearance, but a few weeks had passed and there was still no word of where she could possibly be.

He sighed again. All this work for a little girl… it was hard to believe there was once a time when he was tirelessly planning his ascension to the title of Fuhrer.

Nowadays, it seemed all he ever did anymore was fill out paperwork and run around looking for lost children.

The more rational side of him reminded him that it was only a matter of time before he could bring the country back on its feet.

If it meant that he had to do a little babysitting in order to get there, he would do it.

His thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt at the sound of knocking on the door. Roy felt a surge of relief flood him at the sound. Finally, a distraction!

"Come in."

The door opened slowly, and in walked a harried looking lieutenant. Stopping a few feet in front of his desk, he saluted hastily and began speaking.

"General, we have information regarding Lauryl Goodwin."

Roy perked up at the mention of the girl. Things seemed to finally be looking up.

"Go on."

"Apparently, she's been spotted a short distance away from a small village called Pryhollow to the north of here. She was last seen heading towards Central."

Roy fought the slight upturn of his lips. This was turning out to be a really good day. Not only was the girl seen, she was heading right for them. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Send for a military car- we're going north."

"Yes, Sir."

Watching the man leave, Roy allowed his lips to curl up in a smirk. This was turning out to be a really, _really_ good day.

* * *

><p>By the time I cross paths with another being, I'm ready to collapse from exhaustion. I had come across a dirt road some time ago and began to walk along it, thinking I was bound to come across someone using this path. As the hours passed, though, I was proved wrong.<p>

That's why when I catch sight of a horse-drawn cart and the man holding the reins, I all but run towards it, shouting to get the man's attention and flailing my arms wildly.

I probably look like a psychopath, but it's of little consequence. I'm too relieved to care about appearances. Finally, another human being!

"Sir? Excuse me, sir!" Panting as I catch up with the man with the cart, I take a few moments to catch my breath. The man brings his cart to a stop and waits patiently for me to start talking.

"Can you please tell me where the nearest town is?" Since waking up in this place, I realized that this was probably heaven's equivalent of a countryside.

The man merely raises his eyebrows, taking in my disheveled clothes and my no doubt frightening appearance. "You're heading in the right direction, Miss. Pryhollow is only a short distance from here."

My legs buckle underneath me at his words. Sinking down onto the dirt road, I hang my head. The thought of more walking brings on a new wave of exhaustion, and I find that I'm not up to taking one more step.

"Miss? Are you okay?"

The man takes my sudden despair in stride, and I nod. "Do you mind telling me where you're headed, Sir?"

"I'm on my way to the next town over. I have a delivery to make, and I have to get there as fast as possible. The sun is going to set soon."

"Oh." I'm tired and want nothing more than to curl up in bed, but I can't bring myself to ask the man if I could catch a ride on his cart. He obviously has other things to do than escort me to this Pryhollow place.

"Miss, if you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"

I look up at his question, and the flash of recognition in his eyes takes me by surprise. This guy knows me? I don't remember having met him before, and it's not possible that I have. I've never been in heaven before, after all.

"Umm. It's Laurel."

His face contorts into an expression of utter delight, and I shrink back from his sudden change in demeanor. "I knew it! I knew I recognized you from somewhere! Oh wow, I can't believe I'm talking to Lauryl Goodwin!"

Huh? "Umm… I think you're mistaken-"

"The whole country's been looking for you, Miss Lauryl! You sure had everyone worried!"

"Sir, I really think you have the wrong-"

"Why don't you get on board, Miss Lauryl? I'll escort you to Central! The military will be very happy to know you're alive and well."

As confused as I am, I can't say no to a free ride. Nodding wordlessly, I decide to play along for now and climb onto the back of the cart.

Besides, I'm too tired to correct this man. As I settle into a comfortable position, I drown out the excessive rambling of the man and drift off, letting the gentle bumping of the cart lull me to sleep.

* * *

><p>I wake up refreshed and feeling a heck of a lot better than I felt before. Rubbing my eyes and letting my vision adjust, the last tendrils of sleep leave me abruptly when I realize I once again have no idea where I am.<p>

The only thing I know is that I'm in the back of a car, which is strange, considering the last thing I remember was falling asleep on the back of a horse drawn cart.

"Good, you're awake."

I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of the voice, and I whirl around to face the source of it. Beside me is a man with almond shaped eyes and wild black hair. I take in his crisp military uniform and shamefully remember the sad state of the clothes on my back.

"Where am I?" The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and the man chuckles in response.

"You're in Central. We're taking you to the military headquarters for questioning."

Questioning? I tense up at the word, and I'm overcome with the urge to jump out of the car.

The man must notice my discomfort, because he smirks at me. There is laughter in his eyes, and I bristle in the face of his amusement. "Relax, you're not in any trouble. We just want to know what you've been up to since you disappeared."

At my blank look, the man's amusement dies and he suddenly looks very serious. "No one has seen or heard from you in two months, Miss Goodwin. Surely you can tell us what you've been up to in that time?"

There was that name again- Goodwin. I decide that now is as good a time as ever to set everyone straight.

"I think you have the wrong person. I'm Laurel _West_." I emphasize my last name and enunciate the word as if I'm talking to a child.

The man looks at me closely, and I want to shrivel up under his intense scrutiny. "Impossible. You're a dead ringer for Lauryl Goodwin. There's no way you're not her, unless she has a twin no one knows about."

I can't help but gape at the man and his tone. He made it sound like there was no room for argument, and he seemed so confident in his correctness that indignation wells up in me.

Who the hell does he think he is to tell me who I am and who I'm not? I'm hit with the urge to shake him, or at least give him a good slap across the face.

"I'm telling the truth! I have no idea who this Lauryl Goodwin is, but you can be sure I'm _not_ her."

The man still looks skeptical, and it's clear that he still doesn't believe me. "Fine then, Miss not-Lauryl Goodwin. If that's the case, then I don't suppose you'd mind answering a few questions at HQ?"

Damn him! Just wait- I'll wipe that Mr. Know-it-all look right off his face!

Giving him my best death glare, I nod curtly. "Fine. Whatever."

It takes every ounce of self-restraint I have not to deck him right then and there when he smirks in the face of my anger.

Heaven sure wasn't turning out to be the amazing place that everyone made it out to be.

* * *

><p><strong><em>End Note:<em>**_ Well, there you have it. Until next time~_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note:**_ _This chapter had been written for a week now, but I was too lazy (and let's face it- too busy) to post it. Thanks to everyone who added this story to their alerts, favorites, or were kind enough to even leave a review! It means a lot to me, and even if there aren't a lot of you, just the fact that people read this story gives me the warm fuzzies. xD_

**Disclaimer: **I suck at remembering to slap on the disclaimer. But yeah- I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. Obviously.

* * *

><p>I am herded out of the antique-looking car and led into a stately, no-nonsense kind of building, where my captor (yes, the black-haired man is completely holding me against my will) and I are granted immediate entry.<p>

As soon as we set foot in the building, two soldiers donning the same crisp blue military uniform as my captor join us. They silently fall into step behind me, and I can practically feel their curious gazes thrown in my direction.

I want nothing more than to turn tail and run, but with three soldiers escorting me to wherever they wanted me to be, escape is out of the question. Instead, I settle for giving the black-haired man my best death glare. He only smirks at me, which only infuriates me further. _Damn bastard._

Finally, we stop in front of a door, and the man opens it without preamble. I don't get the chance to get a good look at the space because suddenly, I find myself in the embrace of a complete stranger.

"Lauryl! Oh, thank goodness you're all right! Darling, you've had me so worried!"

The strong smell of a flowery perfume overwhelms my nostrils, and I wrinkle my nose in distaste. I feel my shirt dampen, and I stiffen when I realize that the stranger is crying on me. Growing more uncomfortable with the situation by the second, I extricate myself from the stranger's embrace and back away, unsure of how to deal with the unusual display.

Now that my personal space is returned to me, I am able to get a good look at my surroundings, and I notice that my assailant is a teary eyed middle-aged woman. Her face is kind, but she is looking at me with hurt in her eyes. I don't know what she expects from me, so I avoid her gaze.

"Lauryl? What's the matter? You go missing for over a month, leaving me worried sick, and you can't even look me in the eye?" The woman's voice escalates as she continues talking, and I flinch away. Everything she says makes no sense to me, but I have a feeling that it has something to do with this Lauryl Goodwin that they keep talking about.

"Mrs. Rivendell, I think we should begin questioning Miss Goodwin." My captor, who had remained silent throughout this exchange, speaks up from behind me, and I am grateful to him. Still, the mention of Goodwin sends a wave of irritation through me, and I grit my teeth to hold back my protests of being Laurel _West_, not Goodwin. There would be time for that later.

"Of course, General Mustang. Forgive me." The woman bows her head in defeat, but the confusion and hurt is still radiating off of her in waves.

I am led to a chair in front of a large desk, and I sit down. My captor, who I now know answers to Mustang, settles down into the seat behind the desk, and the woman, Mrs. Rivendell, takes the empty seat beside mine.

Mustang wastes no time getting down to the grit of things, because the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, "So Miss Goodwin, why don't you tell us where you went after leaving the village of Eulygul?"

I can't even begin to explain how that question makes absolutely no sense to me. Not only have I never heard of Eulygul in my life, I am most certainly _not_ Miss Goodwin.

I decide that now is as good a time as ever to slap some sense into the stoic man before me. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again- I. am. NOT. Lauryl. Goodwin."

There is a gasp to the right of me, and I swivel in my chair to look at the woman it came from. Mrs. Rivendell has her hand over her mouth, eyeing me with shock and disbelief. I get a sick sense of accomplishment from the look on her face- I mean, it stinks that I'm clearly not the person she's looking for, but at least she doesn't brush aside my assertion like Mustang did.

"What do you mean you're not Lauryl Goodwin?" The woman removes her hand from her mouth and clutches the arms of her chair, her eyes clouding over with despair. "Are you trying to tell me that my niece is still missing?"

Her shoulders begin to shake as she becomes racked with sobs, and my relief at being recognized as telling the truth turns to hopelessness. I immediately regret telling the truth, but I push the thought away. It's for the best, I reason with myself.

I find myself reaching over to pat the woman awkwardly on the back, and she flinches at the contact. I wrench my hand away but continue to watch her.

Eventually, her sobbing subsides, and with a sniff, she lifts her head to get a good look at me. I can't help but look back, trying to convey in my eyes that I am truly sorry about her niece.

"That doesn't make an ounce of sense!" Mustang brings his fist down hard on his desk, but no one flinches.

"She's not her." Mrs. Rivendell has finished her silent scrutiny of me, and it's clear that what she sees in me has led her to the truth. Her voice is shaky, but her tone is resolute with quiet acceptance.

"What?"

"The girl is telling the truth. She is not my niece."

I sink down into my seat, overcome with relief at her revelation. I had been expecting a long, drawn out discussion, but it's now clear that with Mrs. Rivendell on my side, Mustang doesn't have much room for argument.

The man in question heaves a great sigh and rubs his temples in irritation. His eyes are closed shut, and I can see that he's trying hard to grasp the now undeniable truth.

Finally, he opens his eyes and rests his gaze on me. I am a little intimidated by the intensity of his stare, but I steel myself for the questions that are sure to come.

"You say that your name is Laurel West." It is not a question, but I nod in affirmation anyway.

"No relation to Lauryl Goodwin?"

I shake my head in response. "No. I had never heard of her before today."

It takes him a moment to process the information, and I patiently wait for the next question.

"What were you doing near the village of Pryhollow?"

"I was looking for someone."

"Who were you looking for?"

"No one in particular. I just wanted to find someone- _anyone_. I had no idea where I was."

Mustang raises his eyebrows at that, and I take it as a silent invitation to continue. Now came the hard part. I suck in air through my nose and let it out through my mouth, unsure where to begin. I settle for starting from my most recent memories.

"I was hit by a truck. I had a fight with my dad, and I went for a walk to clear my head. It was raining, and I had wandered too far from home. The next thing I know, a truck is coming straight for me, and it's the last thing I remember before I wake up in the middle of nowhere."

Both Mustang and Mrs. Rivendell are looking at me with expressions of disbelief, but neither of them are in any hurry to interrupt me. I am about to continue my explanation when an image of a black gate is brought to the forefront of my mind. The sensation of floating comes shortly after the image of the gate, and I close my eyes against the memories that are slowly returning.

Letting out a shaky breath, I say, "There was a huge black gate."

I am unable to continue because I suddenly feel foolish. Would they even believe me if I told them that I was floating in a sea of emptiness, only to be pulled through a strange gate? Grudgingly, I open my eyes.

Mrs. Rivendell is looking at me in utter confusion, but it is Mustang's expression that has me floored.

His eyes have taken on a hard gleam, and his mouth is turned down at the corners. There is no confusion in his expression. In fact, he looks like he knows exactly what I'm talking about, but it's clear that he doesn't like what he's hearing.

Curiosity grips me, and I'm aching to ask him what he knows. However, I never get the chance. Mustang rises from his seat and motions for the two of us to do the same. Mrs. Rivendell does so without hesitation, but I am too shocked by the strange turn of events to stand. "Um, don't you want me to finish?"

Mustang shakes his head. He's not even looking at us anymore, too lost in his own thoughts to pay us any heed. "No. I think I've heard enough for now. Lieutenant Hawkeye will escort you two out."

A blonde woman with hard brown eyes materializes behind us, and Mrs. Rivendell makes to follow her out of the room. However, I am unwilling to be dismissed so easily.

Indignation swells up in me, and I am angry now. Just a few moments ago, Mustang was acting like he wasn't going to let me out of his sight, and now he's just going to kick me out? I don't think so!

Clearly, he knows something that I don't, and I can't bring myself to leave the room until he tells me what it is that he's thinking.

"Wait a minute, Mustang! You can't just do that!"

This seems to snap him away from his thoughts, and he raises an eyebrow at me. Huffing, I continue, "You obviously know something, so spill!"

"It is only a suspicion. I'll tell you once I'm sure."

His cryptic response has me reeling. What is it about him that gets me so riled up? "I'd like to know _now_."

"All in good time, Miss West. But I'm afraid we're going to have to hold off on that for now. There's someone I need to talk to."

The blonde woman, Lieutenant Hawkeye, smiles faintly at her superior. "Do you mean…?"

Mustang nods and lets out a chuckle. I fail to see the humor in the situation, but I bite my tongue.

"Yep. This looks like a case for Fullmetal."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Resembool, Amestris<strong>_

There was an air of calm and peacefulness in the small town of Resembool. It was easy to see that time passed differently here, the leisurely pace of the townspeople as they went about their everyday business a testament to this.

The peace was short-lived, however, when a shriek pierced the air, followed by the sound of a hard object making contact with a skull, and the subsequent grunt of pain.

"Argh! Dammit, Winry, stop swinging that thing around!" Edward Elric clutched his head in pain, wincing at the throbbing in his skull. A wrench lay on the ground nearby, glinting innocently in the afternoon sunlight.

The blonde woman in question only put her hands on her hips and glared at the insufferable alchemist. "I wouldn't have to if you stopped being such an idiot! You're always sticking your nose in things you're not supposed to!" Huffing and picking up the wrench, she stalked away, only to turn back and call over her shoulder, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm making a new pie! Don't bother coming into the house until it's finished- if you do, you're not getting so much as a bite!"

Edward watched Winry's retreating back and sighed. "Crazy automail freak…" Muttering under his breath, he made to sit on the front porch of the Rockbell house when Pinako came hobbling out of the front door, pipe in hand.

"Ed, there's someone on the phone looking for you."

"Tell them I'm not here. Winry'll have my hide if she catches me inside the house."

Pinako snorted, clearly not amused. Honestly, do the two ever stop bickering? "Just answer the damn phone, Ed. Besides, it sounds important." Without waiting for a response, Pinako retreated back into the house.

"Important, huh?" Weighing his options, Ed decided a wrench to the skull was dwarfed by Pinako's wrath- she never was the most patient person. Following Pinako's lead and stepping into the house, he stopped when he saw Al standing by the phone. The younger Elric had been in the brothers' shared bedroom, opting out of witnessing yet another scuffle between his older brother and Winry, when he heard the phone ring.

"Ed, it's General Mustang."

Eyes widening, Ed tried to process his brother's words. Why was Mustang looking for him? After the Battle of Central, Ed had made it pretty clear that he was leaving the military. Mustang hadn't tried to stop him, and hadn't tried to call on him ever since. So now…

Wordlessly taking the phone from his brother, Ed held the receiver to his ear. "Whaddya want, Mustang? You of all people should know that I'm no dog of the military anymore."

"I know, Fullmetal. I wouldn't have called if it wasn't important, but it's about Lauryl Goodwin."

"That girl everyone's been looking for? What about her?"

"I found someone who looks just like her who says she passed through a large black gate. I have a feeling it's the very same gate that the people who called themselves the Thule Society passed through- the same gate you and your brother passed through."

Ed clutched the phone tighter, unable to believe what he was hearing. "That's impossible! That thing was sealed up not long after it was forced open! You don't think that girl is from the other world, do you?"

"I have a sneaking suspicion, yes."

If what Mustang said was true, Ed reasoned, then this could mean serious trouble for Amestris. If the girl was from the other world, she could very well be a spy… the last thing everyone needed was another invasion. Part of the military or not, this was definitely worth looking into. Mind made up, Ed declared into the phone, "I'll be on the next train to Central."

"I'll be seeing you then, Fullmetal."

* * *

><p><strong>End Note: <strong>… yeah, I can't really think of anything to say, except- until next time! (:


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